A Father's Memory
by DragonRedScar
Summary: "Your father was... strong. Insanely strong-willed and that made him our pillar. But he was faced with something that had the power to terrify him beyond comprehension, and it, it broke, something within him..." "What was it uncle Donald?" "Himself."
1. Chapter one

_It's funny, when you think about it._

 _To go on a thousand adventures, to cheat the reaper hundreds of time, only for it to take revenge at the least opportune moment._

 _Oh, not death. No, that would be too easy. No, your soul needed something much, much worse… Something… altogether more subtle, to make you suffer._

 _To take, again and again, when it knew that it would hurt most. When it knew it would leave you broken._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _It's maddening, when you think about it._

 _That adventure was neither easier, nor more difficult than all the other ones. Of course, you worried about Della, you always do. But after all, isn't this what boyfriends are for?_

 _And because… no. You can't say that. It's unfair to you, and to her. It's your own fault you fell into that river. It's your own fault that its waters rushed into your lungs, drowned you._

 _And when you clawed your way out to the riverside, when you snatched back your life from death's jaws, you didn't feel good._

 _Somehow, you felt as if drowning would have been a better outcome._

 _Somehow, even in her arms, you felt as if nothing would be okay anymore._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _It's also kind of sad._

 _She believed in you. She believed you could fight it, and win. Just another notch on your gloves. And you did too, after a moment._

 _You did, and again, it took._

 _Just when you saw light at the end of the tunnel, the scythe fell again, taking her amongst the stars._

 _But you know the worst thing?_

 _Even when faced with her death, with that crushing despair, with what you had become, you couldn't do it._

 _And now you sleep._

 _Hoping, for one end, or another._

 _I wonder what you'd say if you saw me. Heh, Scrooge?_

.

.

.

.

 **Okay, so...**

 **I have no shame in admitting that I binged the entirety of Ducktales in a single night. And that I need season two. Bad.**

 **However, that is not the subject.**

 **The question that struck me during the entirety of the season was: who is Huey, Duey and Louie's dad? I kept searching but the only mention I found was in a veeeeeeeery old comic book issue, so, yeah.**

 **So I thought that the only rational thing to do for a series that while funny and all, turned to be capable of pretty good angst, was to add another layer! Yepee!**

 **Also, about THAT scene at the end of the finale, yeah, no spoilers HERE but there might be some at one point when we arrive at certain situations or something like this.**

 **And also, I WILL upload the next chapter of Vigilante soon, it's almost ready and let me tell you that it is a big one. I'm also in the process of rewriting the first chapters that are... painful to look at. Dragon and the wolf should get an update soon too when my brain will decide to work correctly.**

 **I guess that's all for tonight,**

 **See ya guys around!**

 **Dragon**

 **ps: also Webby is a cinnamon roll and why oh why did THEY have to be so cute! That finale broke ma heart.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Three years after "The Shadow War"_

For the past three years or so, there hadn't been a moment where the McDuck manor had remained silent. Be it a nightly excursion to the fridge, the departure to an adventure, or the excited/terrified shouts of kids playing, the old house had become the home to a lively family of four- wait, eight, ducks. However, the life filling long and dusty hallways had forgotten a part of the manor.

Scrooge McDuck was no stranger to hidden rooms. He had a great deal built when the manor was under construction and used them to hide some of the more… "dangerous" artifacts or knowledge him, Della and Donald had found in their adventures: doomsday devices, scrolls, one lost arch or two, if you can name it, then it's probably in here. And it's often enough that Scrooge forgot that these rooms ever existed. But this one remained ordered and clean. The hidden hallways were well lit and there was a single panel on the right side of each wall that directed to somewhere deeper within the wing: a "Waiting Room".

A waiting room? In the middle of a hidden wing? Maybe in his old age,Scrooge McDuck finally popped what little was holding his sanity together and decided to install a doctor's office in the deepest, darkest part of his manor? Or was it-

"Come on Webby, we're almost here." The young Vanderquack tore her attention away from the copper plaque and answered her friend. "Coming Hewey."

The four ducks had discovered the existence of the hidden wing thanks to Webby's… aggressive, research into the majority of Duckburg's architectural archives. Somehow, drawings detailing the manor in its entirety had survived what seemed like a very thorough process of making every single mention of the McDuck manor disappear from accessible documents. All but one.

So here they were. Inching closer to the so-called "Waiting Room", closer to the probable secrets hidden inside, to the- "What do you younglings think yer doing?!" Before the unmistakable scottish accent of Scrooge McDuck stopped their fantasies short. Panicked, Hewey began to improvise. "Uncle Scrooge! erm- it's funny, you see. We were all hanging out in the living room when-" "We found the hole." The red-capped duck's face fell. "Oh…" Dewey went to defend his brother. "We were planning on fixing it anyway!" The older bird raised an eyebrow. "Do ye know how to fix a gaping hole in a wall?" "Well, we can learn…?" Scrooge sighed and rubbed his brow. "We'll discuss this later. Ye kids go to yer rooms fer now." The youngsters sighed, resigned, before answering their elder in a chorus. "Yes Uncle Scrooge."

When the teenagers had finally gone back through what was left of one of the living room walls, the older duck didn't follow them. Instead, he carried on deeper within the hidden wing, always following the sign.

Shortly, Scrooge arrived in front of a steel door. He remained unmoving for what seemed like an eternity before hesitantly typing a code on a screen that jutted out of the wall. When he finished entering it, a robotic voice, faded from disuse, greeted him while the door opened. "Welcome-back-Scrooge-McDuck. It-has-been-fifteen-years-since-you-last-entered-this-room. Operations-still-run-as-programmed." Scrooge looked at what stood in the middle of the room and without moving, spoke up. "What are the numbers like?" After a few seconds of whirring, the voice answered him. "Solution-to-problematic-progressed-three-point-six-percent-during-your-absence."

"Three and a half percent…" the elder muttered. "In fifteen years… that's not enough." He interrogated the AI again. "What are the pronostics for the next five years?" Again, the few seconds of wait. "Predictions-indicate-a-progression-of-zero-point-nine-percent-over-the-next-five-years" Scrooge punched the wall next to him in suppressed anger. "THAT'S NOT ENOUGH!" Only silence answered him. He sighed and exited the room, letting the steel door close behind him along with all the secrets it held.

—

The rest of the day had gone somewhat smoothly. After Donald gave the triplets (and Webby) an earful about destroying other people's property, they were all confined to their rooms until dinner. Webby had joined the boys and they'd all been sulking together for the past half hour or so. "I don't understand why Uncle Donald got so pissed… I mean, it's not the first time we've broken something in the house." Huey rolled his eyes. "Well, _Dewford_ , this time it's not simply a vase that's been shattered, we've made a hole in the wall!"

While the two brothers bickered, Webby had remained pensive, her brow furrowed in intense thought. "A penny for your thoughts Webs?" Louie's voice broke her out of her daydream. The young Vanderquack shook her head and sighed. "It's probably nothing, but say, did Scrooge seem a bit weird to you when he sent us back to our rooms?" "How so?" "I don't know… he looked… sad. Like really, really sad. You have to agree that it's unusual for him."

Louie shrugged. "I dunno. The old duck is a tough nut to crack, maybe he was reminded of mom at seeing all of us together? That's about the only thing that could warrant that kind of reaction from him." The green-clad duck's answer did not seem to have satisfied Webby who carried on rubbing her chin pensively. Louie sighed and took out his phone, knowing that his friend was likely to remain in that state until she'd resolved whatever problem was troubling her at the moment.

He'd only just opened his Furbook app to check on his status when Webby's voice had him clench the phone so hard it slipped from his hand. Her question rang at a lull in Huey and Dewey's bickering, creating a deathly silence: "What about your dad?"

The triplets trained their gaze on their friend. The silence stretched on for almost a full minute before Louie broke it with a sneer. "What about him? We don't know who he is, where he is and why he abandoned us. So yeah, I sure hope that Scrooge isn't reminded of him when he looks at us." Huey had remained quiet, slumped over with his chin almost touching his chest.

"You don't know that." Louie turned to his red-clad brother. "Don't know what? That he gave up on us? Of course he did! We know about mom, about what happened to her! But him? Nothing. What do you think he did Hewey?" The latter looked up at his brother, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "You DON'T KNOW THAT!" And pushed him. Louie's beak hung open, unbelief clear on his features.

Anger replaced confusion and Louie jumped on his brother. Or at least he tried to, because Webby put him in a headlock just as Dewey grabbed the back of Huey's shirt. As to be expected, the patter of palmed feet sounded from the hallway and the triplets' uncles opened the door with a bang. One look at the room told them of what had happened there.

"Boys, what happened here?" Huey and Louie looked away. "Webby asked about him." Donald turned to Dewey. "Who?" A bitter smile crossed the teen's face. "Our father? You know, the one we know nothing about." Donald's feature softened, and for an instant, there was a hint of the deepest sadness in his eyes. He sighed, and motioned for his nephews to gather around him. Scrooge understood and put a hand on Webby's shoulder, softly guiding her out of the room. "Come on lass, Lena's finished with her revisions. I'm sure she'll be glad to see you." Webby didn't answer and simply looked at her friends in concern as she slowly exited the room. The click of the door closing had an air of finality, as the family of four was left alone.

Donald remained silent for a few seconds, the gaze of his nephews boring into him. Finally, he sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Your mother and I met your father when we lived at Grandma Duck's place. It was… a long time ago. At that point, it was Gladstone, Fethry, Della and me who had been taken in by her, and we were all -apart from Fethry- beginning sophomore year of high school." He smiled fondly, pointing to the teenagers sitting in front of him. "We were you guys' age, and at that point, we'd already gotten into a whole lot of trouble. So, the first interaction we had with your father was us dumping a bucket of water on his face." Donald chuckled to himself. "To be fair, it had been your mother's idea. And it had been destined to a guy who pissed her off the day before. So, when it wasn't Bill Farthy who got through the door, your mom ran up to him and started making excuses while we were busy rolling on the ground in laughter. He was cool about it and laughed it off. At the end of class, he joined us for lunch and that was it. That's how it began."

When the pause started to drag on, the triplets looked at each other, and back at their uncle. The latter was looking at the ground, wringing his hands. "We stayed together for the whole of high school. When we finished senior year, we all went our separate ways. Della went to pilot school, Fethry stayed at Grandma's, Gladstone went to business school and I went got engaged in the navy. Your father… he had an offer from a very prestigious school for a physics program but he refused. He and your mother had started going out at the end of Junior year, and he wanted to stay with her. So they both moved to the city where Della's school was and he took up boxing." Donald closed his eyes, reminiscing. "He was good at it. Very good. But he didn't want to destroy himself fighting, so when Scrooge approached Della with the proposition of accompanying him on his adventures, your father went with her. It's only a year after that my tour ended and that I joined them. The team had been created, and for the years after this, we went all around the world." Again, Donald paused in his story. And again, the pause dragged on as the duck was lost in his own memories.

Dewey looked at his brothers and softly spoke up. "What was his name?" Startled out of his thoughts, Donald was at a loss for words when an explosion rocked the building and the shockwave knocked down the four ducks. Shaking his head, Donald snatched a phone out of his pocket and punched in Scrooge's number. The latter answered on the first ring. "Get to the first floor lad. We're under attack!" Donald ran towards the door and yanked it open, motioning to the triplets to follow him. "By whom?!" There were sounds of fighting and grunting on the other side. "It's the Ghosts, the ones from Greece!" At this, Donald stopped dead on his tracks. "What!? Why do they even want with us?" "I don't know, but get your arse down there or so help me, we're getting overrun!" The old duck hung up and Donald stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He sped down the halls followed by his nephews, head first into danger. Just like they'd always done.

Just like they always will.

 **Hey guys! It's-a me!**

 **On another note, I'm still alive and school is trying to murder me... yay!**

 **The next chapter should be out... at one point and I'm still working on Vigilante, so don't worry, I haven't given up.**

 **Btw, the idea that Della, Donal, Fethry and Gladstone all grew up with Gradnma Duck is not mine, it wa imagined by the very talented and fantastical solbabydraws on Tumblr. Seriously, go check her out, she's amazing!**

 **I think that's all for today folks, don't forget to follow and drop a review.**

 **Many hugs and kisses to you all!**

 **Dragon**


End file.
